Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #204: A Breath of Change (4/30/00)
Pylor sits in his room, half-heartedly reading an article on the latest Donoring techniques.
Pylor reflects that the writer of the article might actually have a chance to use her discoveries, as she is ambrov Zeor and presumably has legal access to Farris channels.
Pylor glumly wonders why he's tormenting himself with such reading matter, since it appears that he will never be allowed a channel to match his newly developed capacity.
Pylor: ~~ sulks ~~
Boda, having deposited her scuffed-up suitcases in her newly assigned dorm room, sets off in search of her Donor.
Boda glances from side to side, barely noticing the dreary corridors of the fifth Sime Center she has been transferred to this year.
Boda is far more interested in the promise that she will have access to a Gen who can actually come close to matching her.
Boda finds the right room, but can't zlin inside because of the insulation. She is too impatient to bother with a signal.
Pylor turns a page in ~~ lackluster ~~ fashion.
Guard is standing sentry at the door of the unstable First Order Donor who tried to force himself on the Controller.
Guard watches a channel brush right by him without a glance and try to open the door.
Guard: Hey, what do you think you're doing!
Boda finds the door is locked.
Boda breaks the lock with a burst of augmented strength.
Guard: Stop that right now!
Pylor jumps to his feet at the sound of shattering lock.
Guard brings up his weapon ready to use it.
Pylor: ~~ alarm ~~
Guard: This Gen is in detention!
Guard: He's dangerous.
Boda's attention is barely diverted from her objective by the Guard's threat.
Boda: This Gen is mine, so get out of the way!
Guard: You can't go in there without authorization!
Boda measures the Guard's potential as an obstacle, and decides diplomacy would probably be better.
Boda: I have authorization.
Boda: He's my Donor.
Guard: Let's see it then!
Boda grudging fishes for the official papers and hands them over.
Guard examines the papers carefully. All seems to be in order.
Guard gazes at Boda.
Guard: That Gen's dangerous. Sure you don't want to talk to the Controller first?
Boda: Nah. I have authorization. Now get out of the way.
Guard shrugs and steps back, returning the papers to Boda.
Guard hands Boda a list to sign.
Boda affixes her signature to the sign-in sheet and enters the room.
Pylor looks at his visitor dubiously; a person who kicks in guarded doors can't be anything but trouble.
Pylor: Who are you?
Boda is a short, stocky Tigue with kinky copperish hair and glinting brown eyes.
Boda: Your new assignment.
Boda zlins Pylor deeply and with shameless interest.
Pylor zlins considerably better than he looks: rumpled uniform and uncombed hair are only the start of it.
Pylor was not expecting visitors, after all.
Pylor zlins as Snake made him, however.
Boda zlins with satisfaction that the Gen is indeed pretty close to matching her and is even high-field when she has yet a week to go.
Boda zlins he doesn't seem very happy, however.
Boda decides she can stand not happy; there will be time to train him later.
Pylor's nager responds to Boda with interest, but then, it has been quite a while since its interests and Pylor's were similar.
Pylor: Did Controller Arat send you? Or was it Controller Neptude?
Boda covers the space between them in a few quick strides.
Pylor would like to know which faction is going to be blaming him, since it seems clear that somebody is going behind somebody else's back.
Boda reaches out and grabs him with her handling tentacles.
Boda: Does it matter?
Pylor: I like to know who is likely to be blaming me for what.
Pylor is torn between pushing Boda away and grabbing her back.
Pylor did not find Lexus at all satisfying.
Pylor: Lately I've been caught in a tug of war between the Powers That Be.
Pylor: I like to keep track of who's winning at any particular time.
Pylor looks down at the clutching tentacles.
Boda glories in the feel of the big, high-field Gen in her tentacles; his squirming is pleasantly stimulating.
Pylor: Are you sure it's a properly authorized assignment?
Boda is so busy zlinning she doesn't pay attention to what he says.
Pylor did work with Snake for a number of weeks, after all, and is vaguely aware that she has played games with the paperwork on occasion.
Boda does feel the lack of proper welcome in the nager, however, and doesn't much like that.
Pylor summons some of the discipline Snake beat into him (which hasn't all disappeared yet) and brings Boda duoconscious.
Pylor: Don't you think you should introduce yourself?
Boda stars at Pylor, blinking.
Pylor: It's only polite, after all.
Boda: I'm Boda.
Boda: Boda Tigue.
Boda: And you're my Gen.
Pylor: Pleased to meet you, Boda. Would you like some tea?
Pylor tries gently to extricate himself from Boda's grasp without making an issue of it.
Boda is not exactly up on the social graces.
Boda: Not really. I've got what I came for. Stand still.
Boda does not want to let go of Pylor now that she has him.
Boda has had enough poor transfers lately that she is not planning to let a good one get away.
Pylor feels compelled to make one last effort in the direction of Tecton regulations.
Pylor: I'd be happy to serve you in what--a week or so? You're a lot better than Neptude's nephew.
Boda: Seven days, 4 hours, 29 minutes. And don't think you're going to weasel out of it.
Pylor: However, in the past few months, I've had a lot of "assignments" that turned out to be mistakes, or forgeries, or illegal.
Pylor: So please, who made the assignment? And are you sure it was really that person, and not someone else entirely?
Pylor is too desperate for a real transfer to actually mention Snake's name as such.
Pylor is by no means as caught up in folk magic as Roosle or Ali, but there is a certain universality to "speak of the Devil and he appears".
Boda accepts the validity of Pylor's request to authenticate the assignment.
Boda: Got the assignment papers right here.
Boda hands Pylor a copy of her assignment card, including the paperwork transferring her from the Sime Center in Omer to the 53rd District.
Pylor takes the papers from Boda and inspect them closely.
Pylor: Are you sure that signature is authentic?
Pylor pathetically ~~ hopes ~~ that it is.
Pylor: It's not a forgery?
Boda's papers appear to be legitimate. Neptude's signature is on them, as well as the signature of the South Central Regional Controller.
Boda: How should I know?
Boda: My Controller sent me here, and here I am.
Boda: They paid for the train tickets, if that tells you anything.
Pylor looks longingly at the card.
Pylor: I suppose we really ought to inquire at Neptude's office.
Pylor is reluctant to do this, however, in case the whole assignment was a cruel trick, or Neptude has changed his mind, or any of a dozen other possibilities.
Boda lets her tentacles twine around his shoulders a bit more firmly.
Pylor holds the card up to the light and peers at it closely.
Pylor: Well, the watermark's there.
Boda: Sounds boring to me.
Boda: You're no forgery.
Pylor lowers the assignment card, brushing one of Boda's tentacles as he does so. It is unclear whether this was accidental.
Boda: So it's gonna take a shotgun to get rid of me, and the Controllers can all shen themselves.
Pylor winces at the mention of Controllers, and shenning.
Pylor: Please, there's been enough of that.
Boda's body odor, while not as rank as a Gen, has not been improved by her three-day train ride. It is rather apparent at this proximity.
Pylor then reflects that it appears that Boda is willing to do any shenning required herself, leaving him out of it.
Pylor therefore manages to ease his conscience, such as it is.
Pylor is thus able to pay more attention to details.
Pylor's nostrils quiver.
Boda: So how did you screw up?
Pylor: It's a long story. The short version is "Farrises".
Boda: Farrises, huh. Saw one last Faith Day. Made some kinda speech.
Pylor's nager is a peculiar mixture of dislike and desire as he says the word.
Boda is intrigued but, in typical Tigue fashion, not bothered by odd-flavored nagers. In fact, she is pretty undiscriminating in her tastes in most areas.
Pylor: And what put you out of favor with the Powers That Be?
Pylor is well aware that a channel in good standing would never have been chosen for him.
Boda: Oh, they just don't appreciate me. Their loss.
Pylor is frankly still surprised that Neptude allowed him to serve Lexus.
Pylor smiles, liking Boda's attitude.
Pylor is, of course, a connoiseur of attitude, having such a large collection of it himself.
Pylor's smile makes him zlin much more attractive.
Boda moves her face closer to Pylor's, letting her lips just graze the stubble on his cheeks.
Boda's bad breath would drop a moose in its tracks.
Pylor s nostrils quiver once more.
Boda has eaten little but caramels for the last three weeks.
Pylor wishes he could go hyperconscious and thus cut himself off from normal sensory data. Particularly smell.
Pylor: You've had a long journey, if you came all the way from Omer.
Boda: They assigned me a room down on F, but I'm going to move in here, okay?
Pylor hasn't had a channel who cared to move in with him in some time--usually they expect him to bunk with them, at their pleasure.
Boda: I could use some some TLC after all the travelling, ya know.
Pylor: Sure. The shower's through there, and they delivered clean towels yesterday.
Pylor has learned to appreciate Housekeeping's services since his sensitivity training sessions.
Boda frowns at the thought of subjecting her skin to water.
Boda: Nah, never mind the shower.
Boda: But I'd like a back rub.
Boda seats herself on the floor.
Boda: Okay, get to work.
Pylor learned a few things about handling matters of personal hygiene (or lack thereof) in channels since working with Snake.
Pylor: Aw, come on. The shower's big enough for two.
Pylor starts walking firmly towards the bathroom.
Boda considers the suggestion.
Boda finds the sensation of that big field moving away from her is a definite incentive.
Boda moves blindly after the receding nager.
Boda trips and stumbles on the edge of the shower stall.
Pylor steadies his new charge with a smile and turns on the water.
Boda barely notices as the shower soaks her traveling uniform and ratty hair.